Page 6 of Tension

I laughed. “A lil’ bit of both.”

He waited for me to explain.

I didn’t. My daddy was a sensitive subject.

“So what happened to your little date?” I asked, taking a sip of my wine. “That my fault?” I tried to sound sorry, but honestly? I wasn’t.

He took a seat next to me, and I put my feet in his lap.

“It is your fault.” He looked at my feet. “You got some big-ass feet.” He was teasing, but I wasn’t about to let him just talk about my feet.

“I know,” I said, offended, starting to pull them back.

He grabbed them before they were fully out of his lap.

“I didn’t say they were ugly or that they stank. Damn. Just big. You probably wear the same size shoe as me.”

“Then let my big-ass feet go!”

“Nah, they're good right here. You were bold enough to put them here; keep them here.”

I didn’t fight him. I scrolled until I found a movie, finally letting myself relax as Vel started to rub my feet.

I needed this.

I sat up, opened the second bottle of wine already waiting on the table, and poured myself a healthy amount.

“Why are you putting yourself through this?” he asked, and I nearly choked on my wine.

I knew he wouldn’t hold back on me, but I just wasn’t ready.

I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing what to say. He gave me this look like, come on. Be for real.

“I’m not stupid. I'm an intelligent woman who's been through nursing school; I pay my bills, and I live my life. I just got stuck, I guess.”

“And when do you unstick yourself?” he asked, still rubbing my feet and looking for eye contact I couldn’t give him.

“It’s easier said than done.”

“Not really; you just have to do that shit.”

“You're on the outside looking in,” I told him, pulling my feet out of his lap and sitting up.

“It’s easy to tell someone what they should be doing when you're not the one going through it.” I stood up with my wine and started to pace.

“Do you not think I feel stupid? Used?” I took a large sip of wine. “Do you not think I keep asking myself every day, Why am I putting up with this? Why am I holding on to good moments so the bad ones don't feel as heavy?”

I felt my eyes filling with water. I tried to hold the tears back, but they started to escape.

“It’s getting to the point where I can physically feel the pain of what he’s been putting me through.” I turned to him, set the wine glass down, and let my arms fall to my sides. My body literally felt like it wanted to let go.

“I don’t know what I'm doing,” I confessed as the tears flowed harder. My knees buckled beneath me, and before I could hit the ground, I was in his arms.

He held me as I cried harder, pulling me into his lap on the couch.

He didn’t say anything else; he just let me cry.

I woke up the next morning in a T-shirt and my panties, wrapped in strong arms. I flexed my fingers, pressing lightly against the firm chest under me, trying not to wake him.